Carwreck Traffic Jam

In the eyes of the world we are merely creatures moving about like ants underneath a spying glass. Tears don't fall from heavens, they fall from cheeks and drips out of overflowing eyes, their pools too full of emotions that there is imply not enough room. We all bleed, spread our blood over the earth, penny for every dead man. They say I'm crazy, I just see the world in metaphor. Don't get me wrong, it's lovely you have such wonderful chit chat with everyone, but your face is bordered by a white nothing and you cannot get through my windows. If you do not get the pun, you better not fall under my spells.


You find me charming and amusing, while I am rude and abusing. You think the look in my eyes is cute, the smile you thought you saw a light in my eye, well see again, there is nothing to smile about, just a twitch of my lip and the reflection of a light. Even withered flowers look pretty in the sun, when the lights go out they will join the rest in the compost heap.

It is no time to complain about the pain, not the pain in my heart but the rest of my body that refuses to cooperate with life. The worlds has become slow, a dark bitter syrup much like Marmite, poisoning. I no longer wonder what is out there, it is all the same darkness, all the same hopelessness, the same crap. Even words as so mundane that I could write a book on words and still not make a point, because there is no language in the world to express how you feel, how the pain slithers through your body and into your mind, how negativity just feeds on a human like a parasite until there is nothing more left than a shrivelled corps. The fat underneath my skin is just a symptom of my state of mind, and all that is wrong with my body merely a reflection of the chaos that I try to control. I laugh with my mind, my heart has died a long time ago and now I run on arbitrary cybernetics, just to keep myself alive, for what? Another failure, another a dream to not come true. If I was ever somebody, forget that, forget that who I am is nothing but a copy you can find a better example of. That is how my life goes, there is always something or someone better than me, so save yourself the trouble and go to the source of my copy instead of the copy, misery is not that entertaining.

We all like to look at carwrecks, we pity them, pity how they ended up in wrinkles. The metal will just be reused for something else, no point on lingering where death has lingered for so long.